Wonderlust
by nevel.rand
Summary: Waking up in the world of Sherlock, as Sherlock Holmes's child was an adventure. How people who know not how to love, are a constant contradiction of themselves.
1. Chapter 1

I never thought much of death. I knew it would come eventually, but didn't suspect the meeting will be so soon in my life. Barely out of university, I felt my life hadn't even started. I felt I was waiting all my life to start living, waiting to get my exams done, waiting to get into the university, waiting my hair to grow out, only to cut it again and the process to start all over again. Living was exhausting, so much so that I welcomed death like an old friend.

As much as I loved stories and fairytales, I never believed in life after death. So when I woke up again, I thought that maybe I survived. That thought evaporated when I saw giant heads looking at me. There were very blurry and made absolutely no since, before quickly realizing that it was me that somehow became smaller. So small in fact, that I was the size of a baby.

It took some time, witch I estimated was around a month, for me to be able to see and hear thing around me. And then one minute to realize that I was basically living in a TV show. Not even my favorite show.

Sherlock.

Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock Holmes was my father.

It was then that I for the first time in my second life, _cried_.

Not actually having anything against the show, witch is in fact amazing. But if having opportunity to live in fictional world and not get in Harry Potter was insulting.

I noticed something different with me, if before my memory very much non existing except if I loved the thing that I read or happened, now I could focus my brain to remember detail of my past life that I didn't know even existed, as If i could relive it on fast mode. The first couple of month I did just that, it was the only was not to die of boredom, reliving every lesson, book I read, language I learned as a child, but forgot, knowledge of some sports and dances and everything else I could think of. with every knew thing I understood things on level I could never hope to accomplish.

Sherlock was the only constant in my new existence, with occasional visit from other family members. It was surreal, seeing the people I only though existed in the screen on my tv and in the books. They each took time to speak to me, to try to get me to speak in turn, even if everything I said came out as gibberish. Not having teeth and enough muscles on my tongue, witch I took time to try to accomplish faster, nothing I said made any since to them.

The other remarkable thing was how easy it was for me to see those people as a family. Something I didn't even feel to my previous one. My old family never wanted a child, besides wanting to be considered normal, and it was normal to have a child. They both worked full hours and didn't know how to get close to a child. By the time I grown up and we finally had things to discuss, it was to late to establish any kind of bond. Not to say that my life was difficult, I had lots of friends and like my parents my schedule was very full since I could remember, most of the time I was done I went strait to sleep, so more times that not, I didn't even notice that they weren't in my life. I wasn't exactly spoiled, but I guess the 'buying my love' cliche was something my parents excelled at.

So like I was saying, it was very easy seeing myself love my new family. Something I would not expect from Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes was emotional context, but they show some, or tried to. Maybe it was because never having it, it was much more pronounced for me to see some of it, to appreciate it for what it was.

Somehow in this weird fantasy world, where crime, murder, drugs, psychopaths and sociopaths all around me and more to come, I found I was no longer waiting. But _living_.


	2. Chapter Two

**_Hello, I wanted to apologize for my english, not my first or second language. It would take time for me to get better. And I hope it would be with this story, as I progress further. It's my first story and I would probably write short chapters, I get discouraged if I try writing longer and they don't get the weight I want, and I just stop it all together. I don't have beta, and I realize that for some it can be a problem, but I want it to be experiment, and would revise and beta it along the way to get better. I welcome criticism about my writing, it would help if I know my mistakes, but not much about the plot, as I myself don't really know where it's going. In future chapters I will be creating memories about those characters that are obviously not in the show, and maybe some would not be something that those characters would do, but it's_** ** _fan fiction, so it's my choice to mess them up in my own way._**

 ** _The Sherlock that is going to be in my story, is the Sherlock that I saw in the last episode of Sherlock, the one that finally, even if little, understudy emotional context and embraced it. Because he is responsible for a human being that he cares for, someone who will always be by his side, before Watson. I myself don't like John much, but there won't be anything against him in this story, except if he deserves it._**

 ** _Thank you for taking the time to read my story!=)_**

 ** _NL_**

 ** _PS. I don't own anything, as this story belongs to to many people already! =)_**

* * *

Fearing that my secret would come out made me very careful about starting speaking. Like all firsts that I wasn't sure where to start, this one was the most difficult. Having lived in non english country and learning the language in movies, american at that, inspired me to listen to every sound that people around me made, the way their mouth moved and everything that could help me with that problem. I was almost certain that i had it memorized, but before actually trying I could never be completely sure.

After some thought, and remembering an actress from my past life that started to read at 2 years old, I thought it would be okay to start most of my firsts after 10 months, except some minor things like crawling and some kind of noses to show I was trying. I was constantly in the present of some family member or Mycroft assistant. Most of the time Mycroft would watch me when Sherlock would run somewhere, witch he did more after the first month of my birth. They all tried to talk with me, or at me, to get me to start talking and understand them, witch at some point I thing they find out that I could get the gist of their conversation, the meaning behind them at least.

I absolutely loved being a child again, I was surrounded by toys, all of them that were to stimulate my brain or muscles in my body. I always had some classic music playing around me, and Sherlock played the violin to me each night. Even though they were both very busy, I was almost always in their presents, even if I was entertain my self, or faking sleep. They were very glad that I wasn't very needy child, but if I wanted their attention, to play or talk with me, at me, all I had to do was ask it, in my baby way. I tried not to do it much, and most of the time I didn't need to, as they made time for me on their own and in between their work to talk at me.

I was surprised that my grandparents were able to come so often to visit, almost every week, having thought from the show the they lived outside of London, but suspected that Mycroft had done something about that. They made it very easy to love them.

I slowly started to categorize my memories in my very own memory place in my mind. I remembered that most intelligent characters had that in the show and tried to replicate it. I obviously decided to have Hogwarts as my mind castle, and most importantly the library, and made sure to do it slowly or I would have died of boredom in my first year of life. So fake sleeping was the best way to accomplish that. I was appalled at my past knowledge, having lived and studied most of my considerably short life and realizing that much of my memories are incomplete or have no value as they are, at least to my new scientific mind. I knew things, but not how they became. I knew nothing of the science behind the human body or the computers, history was not interesting to me before, just as biology, physics and chemistry. It was horrible to have such unfinished knowledge of things that I didn't care before and made it my first plan of action to accomplish after showing that I could read, or maybe asking them some time after I started speaking.

I still wasn't sure how I wanted my intrusion in the show to play out. And tried to track the timeline. I knew it was behind, Sherlock looked way to young, barely out of high school, or in his life maybe college or university already, I wasn't sure, but hoped to find out. I remembered that the show started in 2010 and that in the canon Sherlock at season one was 30, if you count from his first case Carl Powers that was 1980 and that he was nine at the time, so that would make Mycroft 37, being seven years older than him. After establishing that, I knew I would be eleven when the first episode will star, so I knew I had some time to decide if I would let it play as it it, or change some of the plot if possible. I was interested to find out how my being it this world will change the plot as well. But if some way, I thing even if it changed, I had complete believe in Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
